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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22633183">Choosing To Get Locked Up With You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen'>potter_queen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gallavich One Shots [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:00:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22633183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on how Mickey found out Ian was going to prison, and what was going through his mind right before he steps into that cell. </p><p>Terry is still a dick in this, but he doesn't want to kill Mickey. In fact, he's kinda looking out for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gallavich One Shots [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Choosing To Get Locked Up With You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mickey Milkovich?”</p><p>Mickey looked up as the bar hushed. Despite his best efforts, his heart sped up in his chest. No one was supposed to know his real name here. They must be the feds. Mickey glanced around, as subtly as he could, searching for an escape route. One of the men who had entered the bar clocked him, however, and made a beeline straight towards him.</p><p>He was trapped in the back of the booth he was sitting in with. He was just about to flip the table and run for it, hoping to god he wouldn’t get shot, when the dude spoke again.</p><p>“You Terry’s kid?”</p><p>Now that brought Mickey up short. He stared up at the pair of men in front of him, who, now that he was looking at them properly, looked nothing like the feds. They were white, for a start, which was rare around here, dirty and clearly fond of drink. Terry’s ilk. </p><p>Mickey’s brain couldn’t form a response, but the men took his look of shock as confirmation.</p><p>“Gotta message for you.”</p><p>A message? What the fuck? Was this a hit? Mickey didn’t move.</p><p>The first guy, who was wearing a stained wifebeater that displayed the Swastika tattoo on his shoulder and the beer belly dominating his frame, rolled his eyes. “It’s about some kid called Gallagher.”</p><p>“Ian?” Mickey was on his feet immediately. The whole situation was so bizarre, and he was still convinced that this was a hit, but the sound of Ian’s name triggered something within him, and he knew he’d follow these old dudes anywhere just to hear what they might have to say about him.</p><p>“Huh,” Swastika tattoo guy huffed, “Terry said that would get your attention.”</p><p>Mickey bristled, ignoring his friends around the table who were watching the exchange avidly.</p><p>“Your lover boy’s gotten himself locked up. Beckman Correction.” At this point, the dude started rooting around in the pocket of his filthy jeans. After a minute of searching, he pulled a grubby scrap of paper out and threw it on the table in front of Mickey. “Your old man thought you might want to know.”</p><p>The men turned around and started towards the bar, undoubtedly to get black out drunk before heading back to wherever they had come from. </p><p>“Wait!” Mickey grabbed the scrap of paper and scrambled out of the booth, ignoring the indignant grumbles of the people he was clambering over.</p><p>“How the fuck did you find me?”</p><p>The men looked at each other and started to laugh, wheezing, belly shaking rumbles that revealed rows of crooked, yellow teeth. “Ah, kid. You’re just an amateur. And your old man knows you better than you think. This was the first bar we tried.”</p><p>With that, the men climbed onto two free bar stools and signalled to the bartender, leaving Mickey reeling and clutching a scrap of paper with Terry Milkovich’s phone number scribbled on it in pencil.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s in the joint six days before Ian appears. </p><p>He watches the main doors at noon every day, when the new inmates are admitted, waiting for that shock of red hair he knows so well. It’s going to be weird as fuck seeing Ian again after all this time, especially considering how they parted. It still hurts, if Mickey is honest, but he understands now, after months of reflecting. The kid would never leave his family like that.</p><p>When Ian arrives, Mickey doesn’t even notice at first.</p><p>He scans the heads of the newbies, as he has been doing every day since he got here. No ginger. He looks down, waves of disappointment and relief washing over him. He goes back to his game of dominos, but something makes him look up again.</p><p>He scans the newbie’s faces this time, and this time he sees him. Standing in the middle of the row, is the love of his life.</p><p>Ian is standing with his eyes down and his shoulders slumped, looking more defeated than Mickey has ever seen him. And his hair, dear jesus, his lovely red hair is gone, and looks just as dampened down as the rest of him.</p><p>“He there?” Juan, one of the guys Mickey’s been friendly with asks. Mickey doesn’t tear his eyes away from Ian, just nods silently and throws his remaining dominos onto the table.</p><p>He stands, moving off to the side to watch Ian be led towards their cell. His heart is thumping in his chest, but there is a smile forming on his face. He can’t help it. It’s damn good to see the kid again.</p><p>Ian walks up the stairs with a forced swagger that has Mickey biting his tongue to keep from laughing. He looks like he’s shitting himself, and trying very hard to look tough, and it would be heartbreaking if Mickey didn’t know what was coming for Ian in the next two minutes.</p><p>He lets Ian enter the cell before he starts to climb the stairs, a shit-eating grin on his face.</p><p>Peering through the tiny window of the cell door, he can see Ian hunched over the bed, shoulders rising and falling as he breathes deeply. Mickey takes a deep breath, shaky with nervous excitement. This is the moment he’s been thinking about since he got off the phone with his dad in Mexico, filled with the sure and steady determination to get back to Ian, to take care of him in this shithole.</p><p>He knows what he’s going to say. He thinks he knows what Ian’s face is going to look like. He runs his hand through his hair, heart beating a mile a minute, and opens the door.</p>
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